What Lies Behind
by JodieBeee
Summary: When Éire Morrow was one month shy of her seventeenth birthday, her parents sent her back to her birthplace in Belfast. Now, less than two years later, Éire is coming home to Charming. Éire must now face the problems that her parents desperately tried to get her away from in Charming and those that follow her home from Belfast.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One: She's Coming Home**

Clay Morrow pondered around the lot of Teller-Morrow, mentally kicking himself for not volunteering to pick his only daughter up from the airport himself. He hated driving cages and knowing the baggage, physical and psychological, his daughter would be lugging with her, he thought it was best to sit the trip out and so sent his wife instead. It gave him time to gather his thoughts as he hadn't had a moment to do so since he got the phone call at 8 PM the previous night. The ringing of his prepay had startled him as he was busy preparing for church. He was surprised further when he noticed the +44 dialling code. _Belfast,_ he mused. While furrowing his eyebrows and looking down at his cell phone, Clay made the observation that it was roughly 6 AM in Ireland, meaning this wasn't a social call or a call from his beloved daughter, considering he hadn't spoken with her in well over a month. Frowning, he frantically answered his phone.

Before Clay could even greet his unidentified caller, he heard the raspy tone of a familiar Northern Irish voice;  
'I've tried Clay, she's too much.'  
There was a slight pause.  
'The flight's booked. Tomorrow 8 PM your time, Oakland.'  
Before Clay could contest, Maureen apologised, sincerely and wholeheartedly, and then hung up the phone.

Clay had no time to process his thoughts or emotions before he heard his VP shouting his name, reminding him that church was starting. Clay sat at the head of his table, scattered and unsettled. It wasn't long before his brothers noticed his lack of concentration. After numerous attempts of trying to get him to focus on the meeting, his Sergeant-At-Arms finally questioned him;  
'You okay brother?'  
Clay looked to his right, staring blankly at his SAA. Although it was clear from the beginning of the meeting that his mind was elsewhere, elsewhere happened to be anywhere but the problem which had just arisen. Tigs question had knocked Clay out of his daze and made him focus solemnly on the precarious situation.

Rubbing his hands down his face and inhaling sharply, he finally rested his chin on his palm with his long digits covering his mouth, not looking any of his brothers in the eye.  
'Éire'  
And as if the name had given him some emotional strength, he lifted his head and diverted his eyes straight ahead. Clearing his throat, he continued;  
'She's.. eh.. she's coming home.'  
After a sharp subtle silence, his Sergeant-At-Arms eventually began to clap his hands which was followed by a deceptive round of clapping and cheering from each of the men that surrounded him. Except for one.

To his right, Jax had been thankful that his Presidents fingers had been covering his mouth and her name had come out as a mumble. He was thankful that it had taken his mind a minute to register what he thought he heard Clay was what he had actually said. What he was most thankful for was that by the time his step father's eyes collided with his own, Jax had unintentionally begun clapping his hands.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two: Modified**

It had been nineteen months since Éire Morrow's feet had trod on American soil. As she strutted out of the exit doors of Oakland International Airport, she noticed with the lack of wind and thankfully, lack of movement from her mane that she was certainly back in California. With that thought, she consciously grabbed her long locks, internally cringing at the colour. Nineteen months away from the sun had done her no favours. Her hair, which was a natural shade of blonde since she was a child and had remained that way due to the small sunny corner of the world she lived in, was now a very dark blonde, nearing brunette. _Just like my mothers_ , Éire thought distastefully. Maybe she could tell her Dad that they had sent her home because with the darkening of her hair she got more and more like her mother. God knows one of that bitch was enough. Unfortunately, Éire knew that wouldn't swing with her old man.

Gemma pulled into the car park and texted her stepdaughter informing her where she was parked. After waiting five minutes, she became restless and got out of the car. Twenty minutes had passed which Gemma had spent pacing up and down and smoking cigarettes. She hated to admit it but she was on edge. Upon hearing the clicking of heeled boots, Gemma flicked away her third cigarette and looked in the direction of the noise. If Gemma hadn't recognised the familiar sounding stride she wouldn't have believed it was her stepdaughter. Stopping a few feet away from her, Gemma's mouth was agape as she looked at Éire in all her abundance. As soon as she seen the eighteen-year-old, her eyes were immediately drawn to her hefty rack. Even though Gemma knew it was impossible, she still questioned whether Éire had gotten her bust from her. However, thinking back to photos that were taken on a transformative trip to Belfast eighteen years ago, Gemma could conclude that her stepdaughter had gotten her pair from the biological bitch buried in Belfast.

The women walked closer together, meeting halfway and embracing without speaking a single word. Once the embrace had ended they stood facing each other once again and Éire removed her sunglasses. Noticing how grown up Éire had gotten, Gemma took a step back to examine her figure. Her tits, she had already mused over. However, upon noticing her fuller hips and how they accentuated her slim waist, Gemma couldn't wait to see how that once bony ass had amplified. Éire had never been long-legged like her father but in those black, 4 inch, knee-high boots her legs looked like they could cover half the road from here to Charming. Her light grey jeans clung to her lean and curvy legs. The red skin tight top she was wearing further highlighted her big boobed, hourglass shape. However, that top looked very familiar to one Gemma had 'lost' about two years ago. However, she decided against getting into that argument for now.

After studying Éire's figure, Gemma's eyes landed back on her face. Although puberty her like a semi while she was away in Belfast, Gemma noticed the lack of youth in Éire's appearance. She lacked that glow that most young adults had. It was only when Gemma noticed her sharp cheekbones that she recognised how gaunt Éire's face was. Her body was in no way slim or emaciated but perfectly curved and full. However, her face looked sunken in and had a somewhat ghostly appearance. With that thought, Gemma finally spoke;  
'Guessing ya didn't get much of a tan in Ireland?'  
Responding almost instantaneously to the comment about her pasty skin, Éire venomously replied;  
'Guess you and the old man didn't pack much sun into my case when you shipped me off.'

Gemma didn't know whether to laugh, cry or slap her. Instead, she pulled her in for another hug that this time had no discomfort or stiffness. The two most important women in Clay Morrow's life held onto each other for dear life;  
'God I've missed you and your smart mouth.'  
Gemma whimpered as she unhooked herself from her stepdaughter and wrapped an arm around her waist, whilst Éire ironically quizzed Gemma on who she thought she got her smart mouth from.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three: The Better of Two Evils**  
 _  
_'So how was Belfast?' _  
_Gemma hadn't meant for the question to come across so accusingly, so she turned her head and gave Éire a small smile.  
'Belfast was…. Belfast,' Éire replied nonchalantly.

Éire, even though she was too stubborn to admit it, had missed Charming. Although Belfast was her birthplace, it was never her home. She looked over at Gemma and had the same parallel thoughts. Even though she wasn't her biological mother, she would always be her Mom. She had missed her, and Clay too. Éire hadn't realised how much she missed them until she and Gemma embraced at the airport. She had so much anger and resentment towards her parents for the last year that she hadn't realised how much she missed them. Instantly regretting how she treated them while she was away, she decided to ask Gemma about her Dad.

Although surprised and suspicious, Gemma knew Clay was relieved that his baby girl was coming home. He was still pissed at the circumstances of her departure, which had been evident since Éire went away. He was also annoyed at her lack of contact but he knew that was because she was pissed at him for sending her away. It would be good to finally see her again.

When Éire asked about Clay, Gemma was content for at least Éire was showing her father some consideration. With that realisation, Gemma began to reflect on what was known in the Teller-Morrow household as the 'good days,' the period before and the lead up to the bad days. Éire and Clay had always been indivisible. Even when they got married, Gemma, no matter how hard she tried, could never become as close to Éire as her father was. He was her lifeline. He had taken her away from Belfast to Charming, two completely paradox worlds. Gemma always believed that that's why Éire had fought so hard to stay in Charming and acted so bitterly towards her parents for the last nineteen months. Her father, the saviour, had sent her back to the place he saved her from. It was as difficult for Clay as it was for Éire. He believed it was the better of two evils at the time. Gemma had agreed with Clay on this but judging by Maureen's phone call last night and Éire's face, Gemma wondered if she and her husband would soon realise they made the wrong decision. 

* * *

_God where the hell are they?  
_

Over at TM Clay was as anxious as Gemma was at the airport, trying to distract himself but failing miserably. When Clay had forced Éire to get on that plane, he didn't know when he was going to see her again. As she walked away from them in the airport, after barely saying goodbye and not even bothering to look back, it broke his heart. He and Gemma clung onto each other as he watched his princess walk away. To his side, he could feel Gemma sobbing and at that moment, all he wanted to do all he wanted to do was to go home and do the same.

Now, she was back. He would see her again and he was happy but very contained. He hadn't sent her to Belfast on a holiday. He had sent her there for a reason. Charming wasn't the place for her then. Clay was worried that it wouldn't be now either. Maureen ambiguous phone call lead Clay to think his efforts to keep Éire out of trouble and sane had gone to waste. Would his daughter come back to Charming more deranged than when left? He was worried that the anger, animosity and suffering on both sides for the last nineteen months had been for nothing.

Gemma noticed that the closer she got to TM, the more Éire tried to hide her anxiousness. Funnily, as she drove into the lot, she immediately noticed her husband under the hood of a cage doing the same thing. The famous Morrow tactic; show no emotion except anger.  
Gemma parked the car and turned towards Éire;  
'You ready baby?'  
Éire responded with a heavy sigh, as she opened the door.

Clay heard the banging of a car down and whipped his head out from underneath the car. He was met with his wife's suppressed smile, the air suddenly feeling very tense. His eyes then glided to meet a familiar pair of amber eyes. He knew by her facial expression and hesitant body movements that she could feel the tension also. This made Clay heartsick. They had always been so mundane and relaxed around each other, well at least for the first fifteen years of Éire's life. But now they looked at each other like they hardly knew one another, which was true to a certain extent. Clay had little to no idea what Éire had been doing for the last nineteen months. _Lucky him._


End file.
